


A Particularly Prolonged Kiss

by Nebulad



Series: Mien'harel [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: ((tagged as both male and female Tabris/Warden because there is no NB Tabris/Warden tag)), Asexual Tabris, Asexual Zevran - Freeform, NB Tabris, No Sexual Content, Other, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gahruil liked Zevran's body. It was muscled but malleable, sensitive to touch- he liked being pet down his sides, liked their nails grazing his shoulders. Their fingers reached up to toy with his ears and they fluttered under their hands, then moved through his hair to his cheeks to pull him closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Gahruil fought ferociously, to the point where Zevran would have been worried about them if they weren’t already immune to the Darkspawn Taint. He picked up their longsword where they’d dropped it, and eventually the dagger that had belonged to Duncan as well. There was really no need for him to trouble himself with trying to catch a genlock and while he would normally jump to tear them out of the fray, he thought that perhaps he was safer avoiding the fight until they calmed down.

After all, even the Qunari had retreated when Gahruil began using their hands.

They were in the Deep Roads for the… well, a long time. He wasn’t sure exactly how long, but it had to have been about five days. The Deep Roads were not something crossed in less than a week, especially considering how deep they truly were once one stopped troubling themselves with the safest areas.

Gahruil didn’t like the Deep Roads. Zevran’s Warden was  _crushingly_ claustrophobic and he applauded them for doing their duty anyway- not because he was particularly impressed or admired their incessant need to perform their duty, but because they needed him to say so. While Sten gave them strength through a hard, slightly sarcastic quip about having to congratulate them for doing what was expected, and Alistair distracted them from the never ending, very dwarven tunnels of rock carved through the ground with his foolish stories, Zevran knew his role. When they stopped to camp he hovered around them and he praised them quietly for their bravery, doing what was terrifying to them for the sake of Orzammar.

Their fighting style had changed significantly, though, to the point where Zevran was holding the longsword that had been their weapon since being made a Warden and the dagger they had stolen off of the ogre that murdered their Commander. They, meanwhile, tore genlocks apart with their hands and yanked the axes from darkspawn arms and drove them into their skulls. Their finesse was quite gone- they would have made an excellent Reaver in another life.

It was only a small group and the tunnels had narrowed quite a bit, otherwise they might have helped them. As it stood they knocked the last hurlock onto its back and stomped its skull into jam. When the stomping stopped a little too long after it had began, they turned back to their team. “Where’s-?”

“I have them,  _cariño_ ,” he said, twirling the sword borrowed from Duncan along his hand. They wiped sweat off of their face and smeared darkspawn blood over it instead. He leaned in to kiss them but they held him back firmly by the shoulders.

“I’m not tainting you,” they said ferociously. He shrugged.

“I won’t swallow,” he retorted with a crooked grin. They shook their head and shoved him, quickly re-sheathing the blades on their waist. “You fight like a demon,” he said instead, moving quickly to catch up with them as they plodded forward.

“Don’t like tight spaces,” they said shortly.

 _“Si cariño_ , I know that. You are no less impressive- your hand to hand is excellent,” he said blithely. There were a few spots where they would be in trouble if they fought a real person, but darkspawn were incapable of intelligent thought and could not  _learn_. Hurlock hand to hand was basically a clobbering, and if one was quick enough to avoid such a beating, then they were already the victor.

“Elves aren’t allowed to be armed in the Alienage. Punch the shit out of someone or get the shit punched out of you,” they said, spitting out some darkspawn blood.  _Charming_ , his  _amora_ was.

“Street brawlers rarely have the passion you possess,” he said. “Break eye contact and the fight is over.” That had been the system at the brothel, he remembered. Crows were not truly permitted to fight amongst themselves, especially mere soldiers, but when a client got rowdy at the brothel one of the older children would break them apart and the prostitutes would break their eye contact. More often than not, the petty bar brawls would be over shortly after.

“I like using my hands. Then you get to feel the pigs die,” they said quietly.

“The pigs?” he asked.

“Darkspawn,” they said dismissively.

“It did not sound as if you were speaking of darkspawn,” he protested.

“Well I  _was_. Anyway what’s with you trying to give yourself the Taint?” they asked.

“You are very poor at changing the subject,  _princesa_ ,” he teased.

“Don’t be a dick,” they scolded. He shrugged.

“I do not know what you wish to hear, Tabris. Would  _I am simply used to taint_ suffice?” he asked. “I wanted to kiss you and you looked particularly kissable.”

Tabris shook their head. “You’re weird,” they muttered.

“May we kiss when you are free of blood?” he asked. They went as red as their hair, their ruddy gold skin flushed all the way down into their armour.

“You… fuck off,” they said, but it had no bite to it.

“I am a rather good kisser,” he said.

“I know,” they responded flatly. They didn’t, truly, as their kiss by the fire before even entering the Frostbacks had only been a tentative dip to see if they were at all interested in him.

“And you do not wish to really test my talents?” he asked. They didn’t respond but went redder around their neck and nose. “I will simply ask again when we are above ground,” he assured them. “You needn’t worry about it in between killing darkspawn.”

“What a coincidence,” Gahruil muttered, unsheathing their blades in anticipation for an enemy that Zevran could not sense as they could. Alistair had drawn his weapon as well. “Looks like that’s the next time I’m not gunna have guts all over me.” 


	2. Chapter Two

The second they hit the open air of the Frostbacks, Gahruil darted into the open and climbed a tree, all the way to the top. They could hear Alistair and Sten shouting back and forth, and Zevran underneath them- wordless and watching- with Tathas padding along beside him.  _He thinks you’re his daddy,_ they’d told him.

_Then we must stay together for the child, my love,_  he’d teased.

They dropped lower in the trees, following along in the lower branches. As the weeks had wore on, Zevran had put his greasy hair in a heavy bun to keep it out of the way. He squinted in the light, but so did they and it was delightful to have light to squint in. “Bath?” they asked, dropping down low enough to hear his reply.

“With you? You know I am powerless to refuse,” he teased.

“Blood and oil and dirt,” they said skeptically.

“Yes and what of it? I am in the same boat, or kennel or whatever you Fereldens say.” He glowed in the sun, still unfairly pretty even after an almost solid month without bathing. They dropped from the tree altogether to walk beside him.

“Sweat,” they tried. He raised an eyebrow.

“You believe I do not sweat?” he asked.

“Guts,” they said, holding out their hands as if to show off their wedding ring. He casually ignored the gold band like he always did and laughed.

“Perhaps you outweigh me in entrails but in all fairness you looked divine cutting them down,” he said lightly.

“You’re weird,” they muttered again, bumping their hip against his. He smiled.

“I am not hearing a no to that joint bath,” he said with a grin. Tabris shrugged.

“Why would I say no?” they asked. 


	3. Chapter Three

Gahruil resurfaced from the water,  _finally_ clean. Their skin was clean, their hair was clean, they felt about two pounds lighter without the dirt smudged across their skin.  _And blood, and guts, and shit, and grease,_  they added in their head.

Zevran was sitting a little ways away, his head leaned back over the edge of the pond, his eyes closed. He was clean too, with his golden hair hanging down his shoulders again. “Needa cut,” Gahruil said, tugging on their own hair to demonstrate.

“Yours or mine?” he asked. They pulled theirs a little more, then shrugged.

“Both.”

“I like your hair this long. I could put some small braids into it and you would look ferocious,” he said with a crooked grin. They snorted and dipped underwater to hide their stupid smile. They had a wide mouth like him but it wasn’t the same- Zev’s mouth was wide because it was too full of smiles and kisses to be small and pouty. Gary’s was wide because they had a big mouth. “Are you free of darkspawn blood now, Warden?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“H’m. Perhaps you should come over here so I can make sure you got it all,” he said in a low voice. They grunted nervously but shifted over, little by little, until they were sitting beside him and his arm was wound around their shoulders. They leaned against him and exhaled.

“You smell like soap.”

“A sight better than darkspawn, no?” he asked. They said nothing, but shut their eyes. “You make it far too easy to kill you, you know,” he said.

“Were you planning to?”

“No, of course not. I am simply saying not many would take an assassin with them to the Deep Roads, where bodies are frightfully easy to dispose of,” he said, brushing his index finger down the angle of their ear. They mumbled a little, pleased with the touch.

“Missed your chance,” they hummed.

“By a mile,  _cariño_ ,” he agreed. “And bathing alone with an assassin is also terribly dangerous,” he added.

“Lemme know if you see one then,” they said. He laughed. “What’s  _cariño_ mean?”

“Your accent is terrible,” he teased.

“That’s what it means?” they asked.

“No, I simply thought you ought to know. Also Grey Warden, not to make things awkward but I see you are no longer covered in blood- does that mean I get my kiss now?” he asked.

“Must mean something awful if you keep changing the subject like this,” they said with a grin. He tilted their head up and his to the side.

“Truly, but if you drop the subject gracefully we can both get kisses,” he pointed out.

“It’s something cute. I didn’t think you’d be this flustered,” they said. He kissed the edge of their ear, running his tongue along the tip. They huffed. “Already call me  _lover_ or whatever, I know that much Antivan,” they mumbled. His kiss moved down their neck and then up slightly to the hollow below their ear.

“It means… something like  _sweetie_ ,” he said, his hand slipping down to their hip as he sucked on their neck. Gahruil moved his head up to their face and leaned in, bracing themself. “You know I am going to kiss you, not slap you?” he asked.

“I’m not used to it,” they said irritably.

“But you do want to be kissed, yes?” They glared at him but he looked remarkably serious. He was settled between their legs, his hands on either side of their hips. They were so close they could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

“Yeah. Want  _you_ to kiss me, not like… anyone,” they said quietly.

“I imagine I am much better at it than, say, Alistair,” he said with a grin. Tabris shuffled back unexpectedly.

“No  _shem_ ,” they said sharply, feeling stupid the second it left their mouth. There was no Vaughan here to ruin the moment, not even Alistair to blush and scurry away. He nodded.

“No  _shem_ here,” he agreed. Nelaros crossed their mind violently, the half kiss they’d laid on each other before the wedding, laughing at their own nervousness as they wound their fingers together.  _Rest of our lives won’t be so bad_ , he’d said, kissing them again.

“Kissing isn’t a big deal,” they muttered as Zevran leaned in.

“Not at all,” he agreed, finally pressing his mouth to theirs. They dragged him close, pulling away only for little breaths of air through their mouths because their nose couldn’t deliver enough to their parched lungs. The Antivan had them pinned to the bank of the water, his whole body smushed against theirs and moving it a way that was stimulating but didn’t demand anything from them. Gary had told him that already, that they weren’t sure if they wanted sex at all. Ever. He hadn’t cared.  _There are many ways to please each other without sex,_  he’d assured them blithely.

They liked his body. It was muscled but malleable, sensitive to touch- he liked being pet down his sides, liked their nails grazing his shoulders. Their fingers reached up to toy with his ears and they fluttered under their hands, then moved through his hair to his cheeks to pull him closer.

He pulled away to trail kisses along their throat and collar bones. They breathed deeply, smelling his soap and the promise of rain in the atmosphere.  _Gunna rain soon too_. “Zev?” they breathed. He moved back to their mouth and they forgot what they were saying until the first droplets spluttered down from the sky. “It’s raining,” they said as he pulled back for a moment.

He paused, then nodded. “Back to the safety of the tents?” he asked. They nodded, hoisting themself out of the water and over to where they’d set their towel. They tried to pretend like they couldn’t feel the Antivan watching.


	4. Chapter Four

Zevran was dozing on top of them and rain pattered evenly against the tent flaps. Between Zev and Tathas snoring and the rhythm of the droplets, Gahruil was half asleep when the Antivan rolled off. “H’m?” they asked, and he froze.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said.

“Almost- where were you headed?” they asked.

“My tent. Naps are delightful but nights are a little… domestic,” he said uncomfortably.

“Not really, but if you like,” they said, pulling off the sweater they wore and curling up under the furs. Zevran stood still, so they peeked out at him. “Naps are fine, nights are domestic, standing there staring at me is…?”

“You simply look warm,” he said, shrugging. They laughed.

“You don’t.”

“I could be…”

“ _You_ were the one that said nights are domestic,” they said, pulling back the furs. He crawled back under them, clothes and all, winding his arms around them.

“You Fereldens are like furnaces,” he hummed into their neck.

“Glad to be of service.” They leaned into him and sighed, waiting for the pounding of his heart to even out before they fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> hurblur im super tired and here I am publishing this thing I don't like a LOT. I like it okay. Here it is anyway. Love to hear what you think.


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